


End of the line.

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Series: End of the line. [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Baz comes back through the Veil human, Baz dies temporarily, Children, Depressed Simon Snow, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Engagement, Fire Magic, Fluffy Ending, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Gay Simon Snow, Gay Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Gentle Simon Snow, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magickal proposal, Married Life, Married Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Mention of blood, Mild Blood, Normal proposal, One Big Happy Family, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce is a Good Friend, Penny and Shep are married, Playlist, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Protective Simon Snow, Protective Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Romantic Fluff, Sad with a Happy Ending, Simon Snow Gets His Magic Back, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow can express love and kindness, Simon Snow in Love, Simon Snow's Wings and Tail, Simon and Fiona are close, Simon lives his life to the fullest to honour Baz’s wishes, SnowBaz, Soft Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Suicide, Therapy, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch in Love, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow in Love, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: [Implied Sexual Content] 18+ Simon and Baz.It’s been a year and a half since the day we came back from America and I broke up with Baz.It was the right thing to do. He was better off without me. I was a broken Normal, and Baz... Baz was everything. Everything I wasn’t and could never be.I encouraged him to go back to America to Lamb because I knew he would be happy there.A Temporarily Death with a Happy Ending.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Ruth Salisbury & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: End of the line. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570561
Comments: 24
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s a very sad story but there is a true and detailed Happily Ever After that starts from chapter 5.
> 
> Playlists (Spotify):
> 
> [End of the line.](https://open.spotify.com/user/jyhh3lv46hl1ktbhv35n3uzk7/playlist/3ky8bHOnCs057MCSVbmbCV?si=H5CuPsOqSOWn4LvnDban_g) I listened to it while writing.
> 
> [End of the line. Second version.](https://open.spotify.com/user/jyhh3lv46hl1ktbhv35n3uzk7/playlist/1IqjQvwY7HuFmipIYEXg3Z?si=JHc0bYuAT6OX8PM2uTl29w) (Perhaps more mellow.)
> 
> All my love to my amazing friend and beta Blue [mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow) for beta reading this story. 💙 It’s truly painful work.
> 
> This isn’t a real series. I’m going to post a side chapter with a different rating.
> 
> I’m writing simultaneously ridiculous “Summertime” that can help with all the sadness. (Helped me a lot.) (No relations to the current fic.) (Rating Explicit.)
> 
> This video gave me an idea for the happily ever after: [SKÁLD Rún](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9NIBZfVBW4).
> 
> The possibility for a happy ending is inspired by: [Keeping Good Company by blackholehuman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403241).

It’s been a year and a half since the day we came back from America and I broke up with Baz. It was the right thing to do. He was better off without me. I was a broken Normal, and Baz... Baz was _everything_. Everything I wasn’t and could never be. I encouraged him to go back to America to Lamb because I knew he would be happy there.

A lot has happened to me during this time. The biggest news has been finding out that the Mage was my biological father. (That hit me hard.) His name was David. (Most people called him Davy.) Ultimately, the anger gave me the motivation to seek out professional help again. (A new therapist this time. I was lucky to get one, there aren’t many magickal therapists.) 

The big reveal of my parentage came eventually to give me a deceased Mother and a living Grandmother. As it turned out my Mum (Lucy) was Lady Salisbury’s daughter. Everybody thought Lucy ran away from magic to California. In reality, she died in childbirth because Davy couldn’t bother getting her medical help. My Grandmother is a kind and warm woman. And we look kind of alike. That felt nice too, to finally belong, to have a family. 

Penny and Baz were my family but it wasn’t the same. (I know I’m not being completely fair to either Penny or Baz, but that’s how it feels.) I just felt as so they could have left me at any moment. I was afraid they would. Grandmother has to love me I guess. And she wants to. She keeps saying she got her Lucy back the day I walked into her life.

Having a real family has given me the stability I was lacking my whole life. My therapist and I are working through my mental health issues. I’m not whole, I might never be completely whole, but I think I’m slowly becoming happy. I work odd jobs for now. Grandmother opened a bank account in my name. I force myself not to use it until I go back to uni. I’m hoping it will give me the necessary motivation to do so. It hasn’t yet. She keeps buying me things and it makes me very uncomfortable. It doesn’t feel as if I deserve anything since I haven’t managed to get my life in order yet. I don’t like thinking about the future too much. I think that might be the biggest issue here. Every time I do I keep thinking how Baz isn’t a part of my future anymore. And that hurts too much. (My therapist doesn’t approve of avoidance approach.)

I would love to say that everything that happened was enough to get my self-worth back, but that would be a lie. The thing that helped the most in the end, despite having a family, despite working through the trauma, was getting my magic back. It came back this year and it settled me like nothing else ever could. I still have my wings and tail but I need to call on them to appear. They aren’t constantly there.

When I tried using my wand (Davy’s wand) it only elevated my anxiety. Grandmother gave me her late husband’s (my grandfather) magickal instrument, his ring. It worked flawlessly. (After they taught me how to use a ring instead of a wand.) I still have wings and tail in a manner of speaking. I need to summon them if I want them to appear. (Not like with the Sword of Mages. I don’t need to say anything, just need to think it.)

My magic isn’t what it used to be, it works for me just as it does for Penny. I can cast spells properly now. But there is another significant difference as well that I haven’t anticipated. My magic isn’t limitless anymore. 

This whole experience was anticlimactic, to say the least. I was happy to have magic in general, and magic that works when it comes to me casting spells, but I wasn’t used to running low on magic. I used to be full of magic until I gave it all away.

“You are just like the rest of us,” Penny laughed when I complained. She didn’t understand me at all.

“But it’s hardly enough magic,” I protested. I never realized that’s how the rest of them lived.

“You wanted to be a normal mage, Simon. Well now you are,” she retorted and laughed some more at my utter devastation.

Despite all of my complaints, I am apparently still more powerful than most. Penny says it’s because both of my parents were powerhouses. 

“You have good genes, Simon.”

I didn’t like thinking about that too hard, even though I knew I should. But the thought of having anything from Davy made my skin crawl.

Eventually, I did come to terms with being a normal mage as Penny puts it and I’m trying to accept that Davy was my biological father. I have to in order to let it go. 

Christmas is next week which means mine and Baz’s anniversary is also next week. (If it can still be called that.) Last Christmas I was trying not to think about him at all. I was too heartbroken. Yes, I was the one who broke up with Baz. But I did it for him, not because I wanted to. And also because I didn’t want to wait till the day he would inevitably leave me. I knew he would and that would have broken me even more. Plus last Christmas was just after I found out about Davy so it wasn’t a good time for anything.

This year I’m stronger. Penny and I are decorating the flat and baking. It’s been a good year. That is why I decided to take my therapist’s advice and let myself think about Baz. I can do this. 

I wonder where he is. (Is he still in America with Lamb? Are they together?) I think Baz is very happy, with Lamb or someone else that is good enough for him. (I for sure wasn’t.) I’m still not, even with magic and being a Salisbury and not just a chavvy Normal orphan. I don’t even have a proper job.

Baz is so much more than I could ever be. He is exquisite, a piece of precious art. That came out wrong. What I intended to say is that he is so much higher, just out of my grasp. 

I could never have Baz. He wanted me for what I once was. The most powerful magician to ever live. A prophecy. I was equal to him when I had all that power. Baz has always been more. I can’t explain it properly. But I do know that he should never have to settle for anything less than what he is. He should never have settled for me after I gave my magic away.

It hurts to think about Baz. But I still want to. I need to let myself relish in the bittersweet memories. 

Next week might be even more difficult and more painful. My therapist says I need to embrace pain sometimes, so that’s what I’m doing I guess. I’m welcoming the bad and the good. I haven’t dated anyone, I don’t want to. Nobody can ever measure to Baz. It also doesn’t seem fair to drag someone in my life to whom I would never be able to give my heart. I already gave it to Baz.

When Penny enters the flat she looks terrible.

“What’s wrong, Pen?” I ask her. Something bad must have happened. She’s as white as a ghost or looks as if she’s seen a ghost.

Penny’s just looking at me, frowning. Almost if she can’t decide whether she should tell me something or not.

After a few moments, Penny takes a deep breath and says. “Simon, you should sit down,” seems she finally has decided on telling me whatever it is that’s bothering her it seems.

“Do you want some tea?” she asks. 

Tea? Must be really bad news.

“Sure, Pen. Why don’t I make us some and you sit down in the living room?” I add because I’m not entirely sure Penny should operate any machinery at the moment. 

She just nods, doesn’t even try to argue. That’s not like Penny at all.

On a normal day you’ll feel that if Penny could burn you to the ground with a look, she would. What exactly did happen to make her so agreeable? 

I set the kettle on and rummage through the cupboards for some biscuits. (I hope I haven’t eaten them all.) 

By the time tea was done I did find a mostly empty tin of lemon biscuits. That’ll do.

Penny is drinking her tea. I take three biscuits for myself and inhale them at a rapid speed. I don’t think Penny will mind. She doesn’t seem hungry. Me on the other hand, I need food. She is making me uneasy with her silence. I eat when I’m stressed.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?” I press because I can’t take this anymore. The suspense is killing me. Makes me think it’s something worse than it probably is.

Penny is too quiet. She’s never quiet. That’s well suspicious.

“I was just on the phone with Shepard,” She says and I am very worried in an instance.

“Did something happen to him? Is it the demon?” We just assumed he left Shep alone after Penny’s Mum has broken the curse.

Penny looks sadder by the minute.

“No, Simon. Shepard is fine, he’s at work.”

Shepard works as a florist assistant in one of those posh joints in Chelsea. That’s where all the rich cats get their flowers from. (Posh bastards.) Although I should probably stop saying that, my Grandmother buys her flowers there too. And she is a nice person. My therapist keeps saying that I need to let go of the indoctrination I got from Davy. And I’m trying to but it keeps slipping through.

“Than what is it?” I frown at her. Penny’s odd behaviour is making me very nervous. 

“An order was placed this afternoon for a flower arrangement for next week. A flower arrangement for a gravestone,” She looks as if that should explain her agitation, but I don’t get it. It’s pretty common for people to bring flowers to the cemetery this time of a year. It’s sad, yes but it isn’t newsworthy.

As if Penny can see my indifference she continues.

“It wasn’t the flowers Shepard reacted to. It was the name that stuck with him. But it could have meant anything. So he checked the records just to be sure. And last year a similar flower arrangement was ordered by that particular customer. But that time flowers came with a message.”

 _Oh._ I get where Penny is going now. I do know one person who must have passed away. Last time I spoke to Dr Wellbelove (that was more than a year ago), he did mention his Mother getting worse. She had cancer so it wouldn’t come as that big surprise that she’s gone. (They are the kind of people who would shop at a store like that.) Penny is taking it a bit too hard. She never even met the woman, not to my knowledge at least.

“Was it Dr Wellbelove’s Mum?” I ask wonderingly. I don’t want to sound heartless but surely this isn’t “Let’s sit down and have some tea first” moment.

Penny keeps looking at me and I really can’t comprehend what’s with her. She looks so sad. She didn’t even know the woman. Penny isn’t really the kind of person that cares too much about other people, the ones that aren’t in her immediate circle. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just who she is. I don’t get why this time had to be any different.

“What? No, _Simon_ ,” she says and her voice is quiet, too quiet. Penny is a loud person, she’s never quiet. Something _bad_ has happened and it has nothing to do with Dr Wellbelove’s Mum. She takes my hand and suddenly I’m not quite sure I want to know what it is.

“The flowers were for Basil,” she says and it sounds too abrupt. 

I couldn’t have heard that right. Because there is no way that could ever be true. Baz is alive and well. Baz is _happy_.

“ _Penny!_ ” It comes out as a scream because I don’t know how to make her realize that what she said was complete bollocks.

“Shepard is _mistaken_ ,” I say and maybe it was too briskly but of course, he is mistaken. This can’t be real.

I push her hand away and start pacing around the room.

There are tears in Penny’s eyes now.

“I’m sorry, Simon.”

“ _No_ , Penny! It’s not true!”

I don’t understand why I’m also crying since none of this is true. 

_It’s not true!_

“I called his aunt,” she continues. Didn’t she hear me? None of it is true. _None._

“It’s not true,” I keep telling Penny but she refuses to listen to me.

“Fiona confirmed the news. Simon, Basil died last Christmas.”

Last Christmas? That’s just a few months since we’ve seen each other last. 

No. No. No.

_NO_

“Fiona didn’t want me to tell you. Basil left his family a letter and asked them not to.”

That stopped me right in my tracks. 

“What?”

“The circumstances surrounding Basil’s death well…I’m not sure how to tell you this...”

“He’s not dead, Penny,” I say yet again. 

Why am I still crying?

He. Is. Not. Dead.

Penny gets up from the couch and is going for my hand again. I bat it away.

“He isn’t dead, Penny. You are all lunatics for believing he is.”

Penny sits down on the couch and continues this ridiculous conversation.

“Basil…Well... Basil... he took his own life, Simon,” She breathes out and that makes even less sense than anything else Penny's said in the last fifteen minutes. And then she goes and adds. “He did leave a letter for you if you ever found out and would seek out his family.”

Despite not believing any of what Penny just said I hear myself growl out. “Where is it, _the letter_?”

“Fiona is bringing it over tonight,” Penny is up again and is trying to hug me. I push her away. 

I don’t need a hug. I need the truth. And none of this is that. This must be a mistake. It is a mistake or a joke or someone is lying to me. That is all I’m sure of at the moment. 

Why can’t I stop crying? 

I hurry away to my room to pace in peace while waiting for the so-called letter from Baz. I didn’t come out when Fiona showed up with her lies. I wasn’t going to believe anything that woman had to say. They are liars. Fiona, Shep and even Penny. Why are they all lying to me?

When Penny hands me the letter I immediately recognise Baz’s careful handwriting.

is what’s written on a sealed envelope. And just like that, because of those three little words, it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore and my life starts to crumble right before my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 😎  
>   
> I’m awkward but friendly. You can find me on [tumblr](http://sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire.tumblr.com) and say hi. My message box is aways open.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case the letter will disappear again or is difficult to read. Here it comes.
> 
> Hello, My Love.
> 
> You should never have found out about this. I’m truly sorry you did. I wish you never would. My dear Simon, I love you more than I ever expected my undead heart was capable of. I love you more than life itself. You are my life. You always were. 
> 
> Already back at Watford, I knew that this would end in flames. I left for America just as you asked me to. I wanted to give you anything you ever wanted. And if this was what had to happen then by all means, to America I go. I beg of you not to be cross with Lamb for what happened. He tried his best to sway me. However, this decision was made long before I even set my foot back on Nevada’s soil. There was nothing Lamb could have done. We both knew that in the end. I just wanted to wait until our Anniversary. I wanted to stay for the day I let myself believe you could ever love me. 
> 
> I don’t blame you for breaking things off with me, Love. You were right to do so. It’s better for you. You’re so alive, so bright, so pure. 
> 
> Simon Snow, you are all that’s good in this world. You deserve the best.
> 
> You should never have crossed paths with the foul creature that I am. You were always too good for me, completely out of reach, someone I could never have. I knew that since our fifth year when I finally realized I was in love with you. The knowledge of you killing me one day gave me solace. The day you chose to be with me despite what I am, was the happiest moment of my existence. It made me want to be worthy of your affection. But I can’t continue, not after knowing what being a part of your life felt like. After being allowed to love you, I can never go back to the nothingness. I’m too weak to carry on, Love. 
> 
> I also worry that one day I will beg you to take me back despite knowing that you are so much better off without me. I rather perish in flames with the image of you in front of my eyes than go on empty and hollow or disturb your peaceful life. 
> 
> This is how it was supposed to happen all along. Please, my dearest Simon, forgive me for my weakness. I was never brave and strong like you. You are the strongest and the most extraordinary person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. 
> 
> Live your life to the fullest, Love, for both of us. Make your life a big adventure worthy of Simon Snow, the greatest man who ever lived, both with and without magic. 
> 
> If against all odds I do have a soul, I promise to come to you next time the Veil is lifting.
> 
> With all my love  
> Forever yours, T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

_No!_

_What have you done Baz?_

_No. It didn’t happen!_

That night the tears kept coming but I could neither feel nor think. Nothing changed the following morning. Two weeks dragged by and I still refused to accept that Baz was gone. 

A month passed and I was walking in a daze around the flat. I think on some level I probably understood what had occurred but my brain couldn’t quite make sense of it all. 

Some days I would wake up and think that this was all just a dream and then I would find Baz’s letter under my cushion. (Penny had to spell it practically indestructible.) I’ve been alternating between constantly re-reading while crying on it and trying to tear the letter up.

I could hear Penny and Shepard talking to me, but I didn’t _really_ hear them.

“Simon, you need to eat.”

“Simon, let’s go get some fresh air.”

“Simon… You have to…”

“Simon...”

“Simon….”

I checked out entirely from any conversation Penny or Shep were trying to have with me.

Another few months later and I started to comprehend what has happened. 

Baz wasn’t really gone, was he? How could he be gone? 

Penny was constantly distracting me from what’s important with her nonsense about food.

“Have you eaten lunch today, Simon?”

“Yes,” I lied because I haven’t.

“How about we get some dinner now? I’ll bring it to your room, alright?”

“Fine,” I wasn’t about to argue with her, I had no energy for that. She was constantly on my throat about one thing or the other. 

Penny was practically force-feeding me by that point.

“Just a few more bites, alright?”

“I’m full.”

“Please, Simon, a few more bites and I’ll leave you alone.”

 _Leave me alone?_ She was never leaving me alone, she was wasting my time. What I needed was to spend my time concentrating on _Baz_. 

Was there anything that could be done? 

Because _yes_ , I understood what happened. But I still couldn't believe it. It didn’t feel real. 

“I loved him too,” Penny tried to console me. It had the exact opposite effect.

“Loved? You _loved_ him?”

“Simon…”

“I _love_ him, Penny. Don’t you get it?”

“I didn’t mean…”

“No! _Love_ , it will never be _loved_ … _I will always_ love _him_.”

The pain kept coming. I thought my heart broke the day I ended things with Baz. Well, this was a thousand times worse. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Penny was threatening to contact a doctor and hospitalize me. 

“Simon. There is no other way. You are not well.”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled from my bed. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone?

“You aren’t _fine_. I’ve reached the end of the line here, Simon. I’m worried about you. You leave me no other choice,” she scared me into action that day.

That was the first time I talked to anyone except for occasional half mumble to Penny and Shep. I called Dr Wellbelove and asked if Penny could do this to me.

According to him, there were no legal grounds for that unless I was actively trying to kill myself in that particular moment. That was all I needed to know.

Of course, I understood that I was having a much harder time than I had that disastrous winter when Davy killed Ebb, I killed Davy and gave my magic away to my own reflection, all in one day. Baz killing himself was worse. There was no comparison to any other pain I had to go through in my entire life. 

But the last place I wanted to go to was a hospital. Penny just couldn’t understand it.

“I can’t see you like this anymore. You have to get help,” she just couldn’t let me be.

So I did the only logical thing I could come up with, — I moved in with my Grandmother. She promised to let me figure it all out on my own. The only condition was that I had to continue my weekly Skype sessions with my therapist. 

“You can do whatever you like, Simon, and I will never push. However, you have to keep up with your sessions, dear.”

“I’ll do it. Thank you, Nan,” I agreed on the spot. Once a week with a professional sounded like a win compared to incarceration (that’s how it seemed to me) at a hospital. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Simon. It’s my job to take care of you. I’m glad to have you near.”

“Me too,” because I was even though I wasn’t feeling it much. I wasn’t feeling much of anything.

Living with my Nan helped a lot. For starters, her house is enormous and I didn’t need to see or talk to anyone if I didn’t feel like it. Grandma doesn’t dot if I don’t want her to. She respected my boundaries, however absurd they may have been. At the same time having her there, if I did want to talk, was grounding. (I didn’t want to talk, it’s the possibility that I appreciated.)

At some point, I started to go out and walk the grounds. Nan would accompany me in complete silence. That was what I needed. And eventually, we started walking for half an hour or so every morning before breakfast. I think she was trying to get my appetite back. I wasn’t eating much. That was a first.

“It’s grief, dear. It’s normal,” she kept telling me. Grandmother wasn’t eating much at first just after my Grandfather and my uncle died. (I never got to meet them.)

“Normal… Nothing feels normal anymore.” Everything was just… off. 

_I was off._

“It will, one day,” she promised. I didn’t believe her.

Another month passed before I completely came back to reality. That only made the pain so much worse. Didn’t think that was possible. I kept going through the letter over and over again. (To be honest, I never stopped.)

Baz was supposed to be happy without me holding him back. This wasn’t meant to happen. That wasn’t how things were meant to be. I broke up with him because I loved him because _he_ was too good for _me_ , not the other way around. 

_“I just wanted to wait until our Anniversary. I wanted to stay for the day I let myself believe you could ever love me.”_ Those words kept torturing me.

How could he have ever thought that I didn’t love him? 

And then I realized how. 

_I never told him that I_ loved _him, have I?_

That’s when the guilt started to consume me.

After that, it got much worse. And even though my Grandmother promised not to interfere she did that time. She removed every sharp or deemed by her dangerous object from my room, took my ring away and spelt my door and even my window locked every night. (I think she was worried I’d fly away.)

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s for your own good,” was all she said.

Till this day I’m still not sure what would have happened if she hadn’t done that. 

By the time Baz’s and my Anniversary was closing by for the second time since I found out what happened I was slowly coming back again. There was still so much sadness I didn’t know what to do with. I fell asleep crying. I woke up crying. It almost felt as if all I did was crying.

But Baz was gone and there was nothing I could do to change that. He took my heart with him. What else was there to do except for constantly crying? 

And then one morning, out of the blue, sadness gave way to anger. I was beside myself, furious, screaming at Baz while sobbing in my empty bedroom.

_You fucking bastard!_

_How could you do this to me?_

Kill yourself and then keep it from me as if I was a child. Oh, you sure are a _bloody fucking coward_ and a selfish one at that.

And the letter? _Fuck you!_ Asking me to carry on and living my life to the fullest when you yourself haven’t. Using the Veil as _emotional blackmail_ is exactly the kind of bullshit I should have expected from an arsehole like you, _Basilton._

Of course, _you have a soul_ , you bloody numpty!

Of course, you’ll be back to check on me, to see that I have fulfilled your dying wish. Because that’s what it was wasn’t it? And I can never _deny you your dying wish_ , can I now? 

Not when you are the _love of my fucking life_ and I was the one to break up with you. 

And what did you do? You went and decided to off yourself instead of having a good life without me. 

Oh, I do feel _guilty_ for that but I also feel _mad_ right at this moment. 

You’re a fucking wanker is what you are!

Now I have to pick myself up after this. I have no choice because of you. You will come back in seventeen years and demand all the glorious details of my life.

 _Fuck you Baz!_ _Fuck you for asking me to_ live _for you!_

As if the regular amount of pressure I had in my daily life wasn’t enough. I’m a bigger mess now than I’ve ever been. A complete disaster, shattered in a million pieces, because of _you_. How am I to put myself back together after this?

Now, I have to do something extraordinary with my life since I apparently live for both of us. That’s what you would have done if you were still alive and happy as you were supposed to be. 

Because _you_ were _extraordinary_ , Baz, never me. You are a bloody idiot and truly mad if you thought it was the other way around.

_Fucking Baz._

If I didn’t love you as much as I do, _Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch_ , I would properly hate you right about now!

_Fucking Hell._

I have to go back to uni and have to stick with it. And it has to be something good, something meaningful and worthy of the kind of adventure the moron was talking about. Because I _own him_ this. I can’t stumble my way around life anymore. Now I have _obligations_ , the kind I can never say _no_ to. 

_Baz is holding my own life hostage over my head._

Now I have to live for him when he couldn’t live for himself or for me. I never asked him to, but I didn’t think I had to. I didn't think he’ll go and do _this_. How could he?

Baz was the best thing to ever happen to me. The fact that he couldn’t see it himself is maddening. There’s someone who was in need of a lot of therapy, there’s someone who should have been hospitalized at least for a few weeks. 

He wouldn't have gone to a hospital, he would have been afraid that he’d drain everyone even if he had access to some animal blood. Baz wouldn’t have hurt anyone. He’s not a monster, he never was. 

_You’re not one of them, Baz!_

You’re a _bully_ .. and a _snob.._ and a _complete arsehole_... 

And you are being _all three_ to me at the moment. You don’t even need to be alive to do that to me, do you? That’s how fucking _talented_ you are.

You’re my everything, Baz. I should never have let you go. 

I’m so sorry I was stupid, I’m sorry I never realized that you needed me even _more_ than I needed you. I thought I was selfless the day I broke up with you, while in reality, I was being selfish. At the time I wasn’t able to comprehend it at all. 

I let my beliefs reflect on you, and never did I bother to ask myself nor you if any of that was true. I decided what was best for you all on my own.

There are no do-overs in life... There are no second chances… What’s left is the brutal reality I’m now being faced with.

_But I will make you proud of me, love..._

I don’t need to swear on it with magic. I would have given you all that I was, I would have opened up a vein… You only ever needed to ask.

You did ask. You asked for a worthy life of me. And one way or another, I will give it to you. I don’t know how yet but I will make you proud.

I’ll do anything for you, Love.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry. But it will get better!


	3. Chapter 3

## Seventeen years later

Life hasn’t been a walk in the park. But I kept my promise to you, love. After all the trial and error, I got a degree with a major in history and a minor in mythology. At first, I had no idea what I would study and had to try my luck with far more introductory courses than I’d like to admit. 

Ultimately, I fell for history. It might have been my obsession with the past. It’s more important than anything else to me. ( _You_ are more important than anything else.) I had to know more. More about everything that already been. Perhaps because it was solid. It could never change, it could never leave again.

 _It’s already gone._ It gave me odd comfort. And history was also fascinating in general as well.

After all this time I decided to go back to Watford just to visit Ebb, our room. The room sealed itself up to everyone. Penny says it’s because of blood magic I used to enter the room back when we went to Watford. I only ever did that because I had difficulties with casting spells. Penny said all the blood I shed had affected the room. I could still enter though. Not sure what that means. It was strangely freeing to be back. 

I felt you everywhere. We have fought and yelled at each other all over the school. Those are precious memories now. Everything that concerned you is precious. I spent hours walking along the corridors of the Catacombs. I almost felt you there. (I know you _aren’t_ there.) I stopped by your Mother’s grave. Talked to her for a bit. 

Don’t worry, love. She hasn’t talked back. I’m not mad, only heartbroken. But somewhere between Ebb’s grave and the Catacombs, I decided to study magickal creatures. Headmistress Bunce helped me combine my Normal education with magickal.

I decided to seek your aunt out after I went back to uni. The first meeting might not have gone as flawless as it could have. But we met again over coffee and then again. We just kept meeting, talking about you. Fiona told me talking to me made her feel closer to you, I felt the same way. She told me stories about you as a little boy, I told her stories about you through our time at Watford, every stupid thing we ever did to each other. 

“Are you telling me Basil set an honest to god _chimera_ on you?” Fiona still swears like a Normal. I do it more often than not myself now. Makes me think of you. 

I only ever did swear like a Normal back at Watford when you got me all flustered. _It’s a memory that means the world to me now._

“Sure he did, the git that he is,” I laughed. It felt _good_ to laugh.

“He’s always been a scheming brat,” she crocked out and laughed too.

“That’s for sure. Baz did scare himself half to death though. The chimera went after _him_ first.”

Fiona snorted at that.

“Unbelievable.”

Your aunt found it excruciatingly funny that I followed you around Catacombs every single night our fifth year without realizing that I was in love with you.

“ _Catacombs_ _at night_ , Simon? No one goes to those lengths without the strongest motivation of them all,” Fiona was raising her eyebrow at me. (Your eyebrow.)

“I thought I did have the strongest motivation of them all.” 

“ _Love_ is the strongest motivation, you absolute numpty.”

“Yeah, yeah, well... How was I supposed to know it back then? I was a moron. And he did try to kill me or at least make it look like he did. So I would say it wasn’t _all_ on me.”

Fiona thought it all made sense since, clearly, we weren’t mages at all, we were _two bloody numpties_. (Her words.)

We kept talking and laughing. And somewhere in the middle of it all, we formed an unbreakable bond. One day when life felt shite, your aunt came to be my number one call instead of Penny or my Grandmother.

She misses you viciously, Fiona. So do I. Any night I wasn’t over at Fiona’s, we talked on the phone instead. 

Penny has made a few inappropriate jokes about that. 

“Simon. We are having a barbeque. Are you in?”

“Sorry, Pen. Can’t come over this weekend.”

“Planning a romantic getaway with your girlfriend?”

Fiona and I kept on investigating any new sightings of magickal creatures. That’s what Penny was getting at. But it’s _not_ like that. It never was and it never will be. You are the glue that bonded us, our love to you. Yes, over time we found out that we share more than a few similar qualities and our relationship has gotten stronger for that. But it’s not romantic and not only because Fiona _clearly_ isn’t a man. 

I guess you could say I see her as an aunt myself. I called her _my dear old aunt_ once. Won’t make that mistake again. Fiona plastered my face on embarrassing commercials all over London in retaliation. She keeps calling me a brat. (I’m pretty sure she is thinking of you, love.)

When Fiona found out the goblins were after me, she scolded me right there and then.

“Fucking goblins are trying to kill you in order to get a crown?”

“Well, yeah…”

“And you haven’t told me this _why_ exactly?”

“Nothing to tell. I’m handling it.”

“ _Oh, you’re handling it?_ How, pray tell, are you doing that? By fighting off one attack after another?”

“It’s not like I know where their lair is. I have no other choice.”

“Why am I always stuck with bloody idiots for nephews? Did someone put a curse on me at a young age I don’t know about?” Fiona said because she’s overly dramatic. “I have a way to find out where they hide. I have contacts in places no one else will go to. And you _know_ that, you bloody _numpty._ ”

“I haven’t thought of that,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Of course not, too busy being _stupid_.”

Fiona located goblin’s lair within a week.

“What are we going to do?”

“Don’t worry, I’m handling this one, boyo.”

“Are you kidding me, Fiona? I’m not letting you go alone.” 

_Fucking lunatic is what she is._

“I won’t be in any danger. You have my word.” She was hiding something and I knew it.

“Then why do I have troubles believing you?”

“Because you’re paranoid?” She had the audacity to raise that eyebrow at me.

“Takes one to know one, Fiona. You aren’t going without me, and that’s the end of that conversation. I track you if I have to. You know I will.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she sighed. “There are annoying when they are small, they are even worse when they are all grown up.”

“You didn’t know me when I was a kid.”

“It’s a valid assumption, boyo.”

“Fair enough. But don’t change the subject.”

“The goblins’ lair is in an abandoned warehouse outside of London. I got enough explosives to blow the whole building up. I’ll use magic on any survivours.”

“And why couldn’t you have told me that?” That was a _great_ idea.

“I didn’t think you’ll approve. Basil would have thought it to be cruel.”

“That’s because Baz only ever wanted to kill vampires, and that’s because he doesn’t think they’re alive. Baz sees all life as precious because he’s a gentle soul. You and I, we aren’t that good.”

“So you aren’t mad then?” Your aunt was worried. _Who’s a bloody idiot now?_

“Mad? Fiona, it’s brilliant. _You’re brilliant!_ ” I embrace her in a hug and kiss her on the cheek. “Let’s go and blow up some goblins, auntie!” 

“Alright then.” Fiona gave me her patented smile, the one that said she was ready to get her hands dirty.

Over time, I start seeing people. However, it took time for me to realize that it wasn’t cheating, not exactly. You’ve got my heart. If nobody could ever have that then why should anything else matter? 

I wish I could tell you that I was strong enough to come to that realisation by myself. But I wasn’t. Fiona had to drag my mind out of the gutter for three years before things finally started to sink in.

 _Merlin_ , I kept showing up at her door after the encounters, ridden with guilt. She’s the one that kept banging my head in a metaphorical wall.

“I cheated on Baz again. What the Hell is wrong with me?”

Fiona sighed. “You didn’t cheat, Simon. It’s okay.”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me it’s okay!” I was close to screaming and crying.

“It _is_ okay. Basil would want you to be happy,” she pressed.

“Happy? _For fuck’s sake, Fiona,_ it’s just sex! It won’t make me _happy_. Baz is the one who makes me happy.”

“I know, boyo, I know.” Your homicidal lunatic of an aunt wrapped her arms around me and let me sob in her chest on the floor of her living room. 

It became a bit of a thing. I would come over every time _after_ and cry or call her and cry when she was out hunting vampires. It took a few years, but eventually, it got better. She got me through that. No one else could have. Nobody knew you as much as she did. Nobody was connected to you as much as she was. 

Fiona and I are used to holding hands in order to feel closer to you. That might sound bizarre, but it makes sense to us. When a flat went for sale on Fiona’s floor, I jumped on the possibility to be closer to her. It made more sense than getting through half the London every time I was having a mental breakdown. There were too many to count during my years at uni.

I have mostly Fiona to thank for giving me a clear enough mind to make it through uni. (She kept a tight hold on my sanity.) No, I haven’t graduated top of my class, darling. (I’m not you.) But I did good, better than I would’ve believed myself being capable of. After graduation, it’s suddenly felt that all the knowledge I got wasn’t even close to being enough. There were so many magickal creatures in the world that none of the books mentioned. (As you remember we even met a few unknown creatures during our trip to America.) I kept wondering how many there were missing from the books, how many there were still to uncover.

Shep’s earlier adventures made me consider what I wanted to do with my life. In the end, I started on my doctorate on Mythical creatures of the World, applied for a grand at my uni with the help of Penny’s Mum and left to do some on-hands research. Penny, Shep and Fiona came along. Penny took a break from her studies. (She had two years left on her residency.) Fiona was still technically a vampire hunter. (We made a few detours.) 

Paid Lamb a visit. And while Shep tried with polite conversation, Penny was busy planning something, Fiona and I went for brute force. (That’s our brand after all.) We scared him into telling us everything he knew about NextBlood and helping us.

“You’ve seen what I was capable of without magic. What do you think I can do to your little clan now?” I said with my wings out, ring shinning with magic on one hand while holding the Sword of Mages in the other. Penny said I looked _ridiculous_. Shep said I looked _terrifying_. Fiona said I looked _hot as Hell_. (I can see the family resemblance now, darling. You Pitches are sure drawn to danger like a moth to a flame.) 

Before Lamb even had time to consider an answer Fiona spat out, “You will help this time or there won’t be anything left of you or your city.” She was holding a ball of fire in each palm. Your aunt was a vision. Powerful, vicious and deadly if need be. (Perhaps Salisburys aren’t immune to danger either.)

Lamb had no other choice but to help us take down Next Blood once and for all.

Penny wanted to burn the whole city with Lamb and all his vampires to the ground before we left. But despite the earlier threats neither Fiona nor I could do that to Lamb. He was with you for the last months of your life and he _tried_ to keep you alive. 

Lamb also honoured your wishes, contacted your family and send your ashes along with your wand, letters to us and other personal belongings back to England. Fiona and I didn’t have it in our hearts to harm him. 

Instead, we threatened him against creating more of his kind and against killing humans. (I don’t think he kills humans, but better to be safe than sorry.) Fiona put a curse on him against doing that for good measure. (Something she picked up while hunting vampires for the Coven.) We left Lamb in peace after that.

The four of us travelled the world collecting data and writing our own book, an updated and more detailed encyclopedia on magickal creatures. Having Fiona on the trip meant we got in much more trouble than we would have without her. _It was glorious._ I loved every moment of it. Wouldn’t have been the same without her, that’s for sure.

Some creatures turned out to be Normal myths. (Those got in my dissertation.) The real ones did too sometimes. (I left out any details that had any capacity of compromising our world.) Usually, universities don’t let you get your doctorate without spending some time educating a bunch of bored and uninterested first years. But I was shown some leniency thanks to Penny’s Mum. However, I had to make a video diary of the places we visit and interview locals knowledgable on the subject. (We filmed interviews with Normals only.)

I still had to do some teaching when we finally came back five years later. (We took an extra year in North America partially because of Next Blood.) To my surprise I loved teaching. I started as a lecturer and continued on with my research on the side. (Fiona and I still take shorter trips over the weekends and during the Summer and Winter breaks to expand our knowledge and possibly escape the mundanity of holidays.) I became the reader last year. (Never have I thought, growing up, that I would fit in or want to be in academia.) 

My most important goal is to get my own faculty. For that, I need to become a professor first. (There are rumours going around, so fingers crossed.) Headmistress Bunce and I are working on branching out magickal education to London. Having my own faculty would give me free rain with my classes. I still want to teach World’s history to Normal students but I also want to be able to teach uncensured Magickal Creatures class to young adult magicians. At the moment I teach worlds history and mythology to Normal students only.

I’m wearing a suit to work every day and I love it. Who would have thought that? I have to admit that, gradually without noticing myself at first (that’s nothing new for a younger me not to notice things that actually happen to me), I myself became the _posh bastard_ I was taught to hate.

Turns out good manners and quality clothes doesn’t make one a bastard. Don’t get me wrong, love, I’m still a proper bastard. And a total arse according to Penny and Fiona, but for completely different reasons.

You could say I also became cynical with years. And I don’t bother with people if I don’t have to. 

I haven’t married. I’m sorry, love, but it’s not in the cards for me. But I haven’t exactly lived my life in celibacy either. I wasn’t interested in the beginning. Everything was too much, I was missing you too much and later I was trying to stay focused on school, trying to make you proud. 

I still miss you. I miss you every day. But now missing you is a part of my life and not something that was breaking my life. It’s the pain I got used to carrying around with me. It motivates me to be better, to do better. It motivates me to _live_. 

_It keeps you alive too._

I take good care of myself. I want you to see me young and healthy when you’re here. I am healthy, even though I smoke at times. I only ever smoke alone when I’m feeling down and need a reminder of you. 

For the rest, I smoke with Fiona when we’re spending the evening together. To be honest we have become inseparable. If I don’t show up, she is kicking up a fuss.

“Oi! So what, fucking Normals is more fun than spending time with me?” 

“Normals don’t talk back, you insatiable shrew,” I’m joking of course and she knows it. 

The irony of it all is that most evenings I prefer to spend with her than pick up a random Normal. (I stick to Normals.) They don’t seem quite real. I don’t want something real that isn’t you, I’m not capable of that. I’m almost certain it’s the same for Fiona. I may not be proud of myself for only seeking out one night stand at my age, but there isn’t much I can do about that. 

Fiona is turning sixty soon. She isn’t looking forward to that. Says I will make fun of her and tell too many jokes. And she’s right of course, I will. (I’m already compiling a list.) But I’m surely convinced your aunt is planning something excessively awful for my forties birthday. So don’t you dare feel sorry for her.

I made something of myself, love. I’m living a life worth living, a life worthy of you. I think I made you proud, I hope I did. I also hope you will find peace after you visit me, I want you to. I will carry on as I am. You don’t need to worry about me. Of course, I would want to see you again but I want you to find peace more.

There’s no need for another blackmail of a visiting twenty years from now to keep me going. You did the right thing the first time around. I wouldn’t have putten myself back together if you haven’t told me you’ll be back to check on me. But you don’t need to do that again. I like my life, I’m happy with the work I do, that also happens to be my hobby as well. I never married but many people don’t. 

Fiona and I haven’t seen much of the Grimms. Your Father did mourn your death, but according to Fiona with time your death brought him something akin relief, because of you being a vampire. Malcolm worried too much about people finding out. Fiona cut tighs with the Grimms after that.

Fiona and I visit your grave together. Still ordering at the same flower shop in Chelsea. They know us by name by now. We visit you every year in the morning and let the Grimms come when they want if they want. We did see Mordelia from time to time. She reached out when she started uni in London. She got married to a nice bloke. Your sister’s wedding was the first time we’ve seen the rest of the Grimms in years. 

Dev was there too. An awkward handshake and an even more awkward hug later there wasn’t much to say. 

“Dev.”

“Snow.”

“It’s Salisbury,” I said. We were both uncomfortable.

“Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard I guess,” and with _that_ word, fell a long silence.

We didn’t get much out from that exchange. He missed you, but he got over it all. He didn’t get stuck the way Fiona and I did. Your aunt says no one can love you as much as we do. I’m not sure if that makes us special or just sad. Possibly it’s both. Yet, I wouldn’t change it for the world. My love to you is what keeps me going.

I’m an uncle now. When we came back from our adventures, I promised to donate my sperm to Penny and Shep for any children they decide to have. (Since Shep is a Normal and can’t father magickal children.)

I’m not planning on having any of my own. I’m not sure I could ever heal enough for that. There are parts of me that are still broken. It wouldn’t be fair to bring a child into that. I long suspected this to be the reason why Fiona never married. You need a clear state of both heart and mind in order to start a family. (And both my heart and mind are filled with missing you.)

People like your aunt and I aren’t the most suitable candidates for parenting. I think we can both agree that your father is a grand example of not being a suited parent either. 

Speaking of your aunt. She comes by uni to eat lunch with me most days now. She isn’t hunting vampires anymore except in London, and she is seldom needed. (Most rogue vampires stay clear of London.) Says she got bored travelling. (Fiona’s getting older, is what she is. But you’ll never hear her admitting to that.) Now that she’s "bored" I got her to join my gym. She needs to stay active now that she’s hardly working anymore. We have a lot of fun together even at the gym. We manage to have fun wherever we go as long as we are together.

Penny gave birth to their third child last year. They now have two girls and one boy. They named the boy Basilton in your honour, love. 

This might not be a conventional family, but I do have one. Two nieces, one nephew, a grandmother, an aunt, and Penny who has been like a sister to me since I was eleven years old. And she hasn’t left me, I was young and foolish when I believed she ever would. 

You wouldn’t have left me either. If only I haven’t sent you away to America, if only I let you stay with me. I try not to go too deep into a “what if” spiral. 

We get the lot we were handed and we make the best of it.

What I’m trying to say is that my life is full, even if it doesn’t have a partner and a child in it. You don’t need to worry about me anymore, love. I’ll be just fine. I’ll carry on as I am.

I’m nervous, too nervous. Tomorrow is autumnal equinox and the Veil will lift. Tomorrow I’ll finally get to see you again, love.

Last month I got myself a new Spencer Hart suit. (Your favourite.) Got a new haircut too. My hair is much longer than it used to. (I hope you’ll like it this way.) I was planning not to shave and let the beard be. But then I got worried it’ll make me look older. 

I noticed a few wrinkles around my eyes at twenty-five. That’s when I started taking better care of my skin and my body. I didn’t want to look too old for you, love. I’m thirty-eight now.

 _Crowley._ (I seem to swear like you nowadays, love.)

People say I don’t look a day over twenty-eight. Most people are filthy liars. But even if it was true. _Love_ , you were just shy of twenty one the day you were gone. You were always older than me, even if only by merely eight months. Everything is different now. Fiona says I worry too much.

“Basil will love your hideous face at any age,” was what I got when she noticed I was a bit off.

“You always know what to tell a bloke to make him feel special, antie,” I complained but I did feel better.

“He loves you, you numpty. If Baz cared about appearances, he wouldn’t have chosen you to begin with.”

“Oh, thank you, now I feel all warm and _oh so cherished_.” 

She did make me laugh and that was the point of course.

“Oh, come off it, Simon. You look great and younger than you think. It’s going to be fine. It’s just the nerves. I’m nervous, too.”

Yes, just the nerves. 


	4. Chapter 4

“Baz?” It’s him, he is here. 

I throw my arms around him.

“Hey, love,” Baz is embracing me and I finally feel at _peace_ , even if it’s just for now, even if it won’t last.

“Hey, my darling.” I’m crying and it’s tears of happiness for the first time in what feels like an eternity. Baz is crying too.

“Simon, I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I should never..,” he starts to apologise. I shut him up with a kiss. I have things to apologise for too. But we can’t waste time on apologies. This is too important.

“None of that. It’s all in the past. You are here now. I missed you so much, Baz,” I murmur when we break apart, out of breath. I’m not embarrassed. Loving Baz is the most natural feeling in the world.

“I missed you too. You are just as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers in my hair.

“And you are as much of a liar as I remember,” I whisper back and he chuckles. It’s been seventeen years. I’m clearly no spring chicken.

“When are you going to learn, Simon, that everything I say about you is true? Besides coming through the Veil means I can’t lie, or have you forgotten your Watford education already?” And he fills his words with both love and disapproval. He’s so fucking talented with both paying a compliment and insulting all at the same time.

_ I missed him so fucking much. _

Instead of talking I kiss him in lieu of a response. If it were up to me I would keep him here with me forever. I would hold him and never let him go.

We won’t have forever, but we can enjoy what little time we’ve got.

Baz does feel solid against me, he’s too pale and too cold, even for a vampire. It forces me to remember how tangible this all is. How I won’t get to keep him, how this is our  _ goodbye _ . 

I'm not going to think about that tonight. I close my eyes and breathe him in instead. I want to kiss him and I want  _ him  _ to kiss  _ me _ . I  _ need  _ to be kissed by Baz. That makes it more real. That he is here with me.

Baz’s skin taste just as I remember. We’ve been snogging whispering love confessions in each other mouth for a good half an hour at least. His kisses are burning through my body. 

It’s not enough. It will  _ never  _ be enough. I’m surprised he’s still solid in my arms. 

I got his suit jacket and button-up off, I’m shirtless myself too. Baz took care of that. We managed it all while still snogging. That’s pure dedication right there. I let my fingers linger on the waistband of his trousers. I’m not sure if this is too much. I know I want this. I never wanted anyone the way I want Baz. I will never want anyone the way I want him. But I’m not sure if it’s something Baz really wants, right now, after all this time?

As if he can read my mind, he breathes “I want you, love,” between kisses.

I’m fairly certain this will break me to pieces all over again. But for a chance to be with Baz means I wouldn’t have it any other way. One more precious moment with him is worth all the pain and heartbreak in the world. 

To finally feel him.. all of him… I will never want anyone else. No one else could ever compare. 

B az is exquisite in every sense of the word.  My heart aches in the best and worst possible way for him, his body and his mind.

How can I go back to my life after this? How can I even call what I’ve been doing for life after this? It took me years to start functioning. I don’t know what I’ll do now. 

We are lying in my bed with our limbs entangled and Baz half asleep on my chest. This might not be the best moment to bring this up, but I don’t know how long we have. And I would never forgive myself if I forgot.

“Baz,” I say and kiss his hair, “We need to call Fiona. She’ll want to see you too.” I don’t bring up Baz’s Father. Their relationship wasn’t what you would call amicable. And honestly, I don’t care about Malcolm’s feelings. I only care about Fiona. Penny too, but this doesn’t mean to her what it means to us. And Nan and Baz only know each other by name. (Everyone from the Families knows of each other but a little.)

That’s when I notice that he isn’t so pale any more. Did I see that right?

I call out to him again.

“Baz? Love, you need to wake up.” He opens his eyes and they look different too, I can see that even in this light.

“Simon,” he says and his voice trembles. “I feel strange.”

Baz isn’t so cold anymore. He isn’t as warm as I am either. But at least he now reminds me more of how he used to be. I just assumed it was my body and the hot shower that warmed him up. I hold him tighter in my arms. 

This could all be wishful thinking. But who’s to say we truly know what happens when someone who is both a mage and a vampire dies. Existing between the lines of life and death while been magickal could mean anything. We don’t even know where vampirism came from in the first place. Perhaps I’m finally going mad. I have been grieving losing Baz for seventeen years. There were moments, especially in the beginning when I was quite sure I was going insane. That could be it. I wouldn’t leave that option out just yet.

Baz gets me out of my spiralling thoughts.

“Simon, I don’t know what is happening to me,” there’s panic in his voice.

“Do you think it’s because you might be back, truly back?” My voice is shaking too. 

_ Could it be? _

I can see that Baz is beyond nervous now because he wants this, we both do. But we are both too afraid to let ourselves get our hopes up. I’m nervous too. I’m terrified to let myself believe this could be true.

“It’s not just that, love. I haven’t been truly alive since I was five years old, so I can’t be too sure. Everything feels odd, my body feels different. But I think… I think I might be alive, actually alive as in, I might be human again.” I can hear both fear and hope in his voice.

Now that I look closer I think I can see a reddish-gold undertone to his skin. Which should not be possible. The lights are too dim for me to be sure though. I can’t make myself move to put more lights on. I don’t want to leave his side. And I took my ring off when we were in the shower so I can’t spell the lights either.

“Bite me,” is the first thing that flies out of my mouth.

“Excuse me?” Baz almost chokes on the words.

“If you are human, you won’t have fangs. Bite me.”

“I am not going to bite you, Simon. Are you insane? What if I‘m still a vampire, or a vampire ghost or whatever this is and I accidentally Turn you or drain you. Not sure it is even possible, but do you really think I would take that risk with your life? Shouldn’t you have gotten smarter with age or at least wiser?” 

Well, _Baz is back_ , that’s for sure. That tongue is the sexiest and venomous thing I have encountered.

“Fine,” I huff at him and manage to make myself get up from the bed. I head out to my washroom. I bought an old-fashioned razor blade last month for that extra smooth effect they promise you. (It’s good but does require a steady hand.) I cut my palm with it and walk back. Baz fangs always pop at the sight and smell of blood.

I come back to him. Baz is sitting on the edge of my bed fidgeting with his wrists. His skin has a hint of reddish gold. I see it clearly now. Baz put on the lights. (I was too shaken up to remember.)

He’s on the brink of tears. I sit next to him and offer him my palm. His fangs don’t pop.

“You’re still a moron, Simon Snow,” is the only response I get. Well, that and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch’s patented  _ sneer _ .

_ Merlin _ , I missed him, like this. 

_ I just missed him. _

“Oi, it’s soon to be professor Salisbury to you, young man,” I chuckle and wrap my arms around him once again. I missed him so much. I missed him being a real brat full of fire. (I might be just as obsessed with fire as Baz is if  _ he  _ is the fire.)

I’m crying now, I can’t help it. 

Baz leans into me and exhales. He’s a bit warmer now. Warmer than a vampire.

“Do you think it’s permanent? Am I back? How is it even possible?” Those are all the questions that are already swirling around my mind too. I don’t think we have any answers to that yet. I wish we did.

“We just enjoy this and hope it will last forever, love,” that might not be the reassurance Baz is looking for. But it’s the best I can give him. The tears keep swelling in my eyes. Both of joy and fear.

“Any time spent with you is precious. More than I expected I would ever get. I take however long I get,” I hear Baz against my skin, his voice is shaking. I feel his tears too and tighten my hold on him. 

“We still need to call your aunt, love,” I remind more to myself than to him at this point. Whatever else happens, Fiona needs to be here. (She’s just a flat away.)

I call her. She’s home, of course, hoping and waiting for this. (I know the feeling.) Fiona rushes through the door in less than three minutes and launches herself on Baz. (She has a key.) She is quick, we only have time to put on our morning gowns when I hear the lock. 

_ Not bad _ for a woman her age. 

That’s when she realizes that Baz looks different.

“Basil!” Fiona exclaims and then looks over to me. Not like I have any answers to offer her.

“We don’t know if it’s permanent,” is all I can say. 

“Doesn’t matter. He’s here now. You are finally here, Basil. Are you hungry? Let’s eat. Shall I order a curry?” Fiona fusses a lot, she’s used to feeding me. I kept forgetting myself. 

Fiona and I keep holding Baz’s hand the whole night. He isn’t getting even a second for himself. I don’t think he minds. He looks happy. We all do. A happy family. I called Penny and told her the good news. She decided to give us space for our first night with Baz, or possibly our last, in case this wasn’t permanent. I appreciated that. I don’t think we were ready to share him with anyone yet. (I’m not sure we’ll ever be ready.)

By the end of the night, we convinced Fiona to get some sleep. By then Baz was just as warm as me and his skin was stark reddish gold. 

_ Baz was human. _

We didn’t fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. Equal parts too excited and too afraid. 

I panic before I’m fully awake and can clearly comprehend what is happening. I don’t feel anything cold pressed against my body and a jolt of terror goes right through me. 

_ Of fucking course _ , Baz is gone and I slept through our last moments together. I didn’t get to say goodbye to him this time either.

_ Fucking Hell! _

I am wide awake in an instant. That is also when I finally register a  _ warm  _ body, lying next to me. 

_ Baz. _

_ Jesus Christ. _

Baz is human now. Somehow that one little detail escaped my sleep thick brain. 

And just like that something starts to settle inside my chest at that moment. (Hope is what it is.) He’s still here. This might be permanent after all. We won’t know for sure until the Veil closes.

Baz is still sleeping. I let him sleep and curl myself around him and try to drift off myself. I don’t want him waking up without me in bed right next to him. It might scare him as much as the thought of him being gone scared me. And I will never hurt Baz ever again, intentionally or unintentionally. He’s been through enough. 

I send a silent prayer to whoever is listening.  _ “Please, let us have this. Let Baz stay here with me.” _

I tighten my arms around him. If against all odds and bad misfortunes this is our future. If I do get to keep Baz, I’m going to dedicate my life to making him happy.

Baz stirs against me a few hours later.

“Good Morning, darling,” I say with my arms still wrapped around him. My hold on Baz never wavered. And it never will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The possibility for this particular happy ending is inspired by: [Keeping Good Company by blackholehuman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403241)


	5. Chapter 5

  
The first three days since the Veil lifted Fiona and I were constantly hovering over Baz, not knowing what will happen. 

“Are you sure you don’t want more, Basil? You’re too thin. Did you not like it? I can order you something else?” Fiona was practically feeding Baz, while I kept holding him against me as if he would disappear into the thin air if I let go. ( _That’s how it felt._ )

“It was delicious. But I’m quite full, thank you, Fiona.” He was letting us dot on him even though I’m sure he would have preferred we didn’t.

“Are you getting enough sleep?” 

_That_ was a question better left unanswered. 

_We were certainly not sleeping enough._ You could say there wasn’t time for that. We spend every day with Fiona and we used every night to _be together_.

None of us left the flat. (But Fiona did sleep at hers, thank magic for that.)

We did invite my Grandmother, Penny and Shep for a quick visit. (Fiona and I might be selfish, but we are not _that_ selfish.) 

When it was almost time for the Veil to close, Fiona and I were holding Baz against us. No one was talking. I don’t think we were capable of it.

Then the Veil closed and Baz was still here and we could _breathe_ again. That’s when we knew this was _permanent_ , that we _truly_ got him back. 

Fiona wrapped her arms around Baz tighter. “We got you back, Basil. You’ll have a life now, _with us_.”

“Yes, Fiona,” Baz could hardly talk. He was still crying. We were all crying. But this time it wasn’t out of fear, it was out of happiness. We didn’t even have time for all of this to sink in.

“You will stay with us, won’t you? You won’t leave us?” I’m not sure if Fiona meant what happened almost twenty years ago or if she meant Baz leaving to live with Malcolm.

“I will never leave again, I promise,” Baz said and tried to smile through his tears.

Eventually, Fiona went to her flat to get some sleep and we departed to the bedroom.

“I’m still here, love,” Baz said and pressed himself closer in my chest.

“You’re still here. I’ve got you back,” I kissed him on his head and kept holding him against me.

That night (morning) we just fell asleep, completely exhausted and didn’t wake up for roughly 16 hours.

Fiona let herself in and made us breakfast if you could call it that. It was already late afternoon.

“ _Simon!_ ” she yelled through the door, “Wake Basil up, time to eat.”

Baz did look malnourished. I had my suspicion that he spent the last months of his vampire life starving. (I wasn’t eating when I found out about Baz, I can only imagine that he wasn’t taking care of himself either during that time of his life.)

Baz was stirring in my arms. 

“Good Morning, darling,” I will never get tired of saying those words to Baz.

“Good Morning, love. I’m not sure I want to get up quite yet.” Baz looked adorable, sleepy like that.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but we don’t have a choice on the matter. Fiona made us breakfast and if we don’t get up soon, she’ll just barge in here.”

We weren’t exactly dressed for company. We _weren’t_ dressed at all.

“You could spell the room locked,” he suggested and gave me a wicked smile. (Baz’s wand was still in Hampshire.)

“I could, but I won’t. You need food.” And Fiona probably needed to see him again. It will take time for her to relax, to get used to this being true and permanent. (It’ll take time for me too.)

Baz kissed me in a manner that would have made me stay in bed with him in our current state. But I could hear Fiona hovering right outside the door. (That woman is impatient, she would have barged in sooner or later.)

That week Baz called Mordelia, Daphne and Malcolm to let them know he was back. 

  
  
This time around I had to make sure that Baz knew I wanted him for the rest of my life. There was only one way to show it. I was going to propose. The decision was easy to make. But the doubt was still there. 

He’s hardly twenty-one while I’m in my late thirties. 

_Does Baz want this?_ Is he ready? Should he even be making this decision right now?

I was doubting myself, not him. But something similar is what tear us apart almost twenty years ago. The memories of Baz’s words on the beach in California have been hunting me for seventeen years. “Why can’t you see that I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?” He was practically yelling. 

I argued with him on the topic the day we came back home and send him away. I’m not going to put words in his mouth _ever_ again. What I will do instead is offer Baz all that I am and let him choose for himself.

There was no possibility for me to give Baz a proper magickal proposal right of the bat. I needed something worthy of him. That is why I decided to propose the Normal way first, with Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s wedding band that Fiona liberated from Hampshire. My Nan gave me hers and spelt them wider to fit our fingers. (I was saving all my magic for the magickal proposal.)

That was four days ago. My brain started working on overdrive. Fiona noticed and decided to take over everything before I stressed myself into an early aneurysm. 

“We’ve got Basil back now. Enjoy that, Simon, and let me take care of the rest.” You wouldn’t know just by looking at her but that woman is a saint. She’s also pure devil incarnate. (Wouldn’t want it any other way.)

All of Baz’s belongings were stored at Grimm’s. Fiona picked up Baz’s wand. She took his grey suit I wore to Christmas dinner the day after we got together and Baz’s black suit he wore to the vampire bar, the night we _first kissed_. Fiona also brought me Natasha’s personal journal with the spell for her magickal proposal. (I needed to see it in order to work out mine. A plan was already brewing in my head.) 

Fiona had to spell the suit to fit me. I’m a lot buffier now. (I’ve become walking middle-aged cliche.) (At least I’m not driving a fucking Porsche, that still counts for something I suppose.) I got my Grandfather’s 1973 dark blue roadster restored and chose to believe it makes me more nostalgic than middle-aged.

Fiona pre-ordered our meal, wine and dessert. (All Baz’s favourites.) 

I got Fiona to spell my hair. The right products do make everything easier to manage but a good spell is what does the trick. (Fiona taught me that spell.) Beauty spells are nothing to be ashamed of.

Fiona and my Grandmother helped me set the table and fill the room with candles. (As I stated earlier, a walking middle-aged cliche.)

We managed on time. I was still beside myself with nerves but it had nothing to do with any arrangements, and everything to do with me _proposing_ to Baz. 

I know he loves me. (I _really_ know it this time around.) Doesn’t mean he wants to get married. It will still be alright if Baz says no. He’s here, alive. That’s all that matters. Doesn’t mean I’m not on edge with nerves. 

I stand when Baz walks in. He gives me a look and grins. “I’m not the Queen, Salisbury.”

He said it to me once before, our eighth year, when he finally came back to school. Actually, it was “Enough, Snow, I’m not the Queen”, and he didn’t even look my way. 

Those memories warm my heart now. 

Baz reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. 

“All of this is lovely. Thank you, love.” 

“I’m glad. Fiona arranged it, said it’s your favourite.”

“It is and it’s delicious. Candlelight and the company as well.” He is smiling at me. I will _never_ get enough.

“I missed you,” I say and lean in for a kiss.

“I missed you too. You look stunning in this suit, love.” A wider smile is spreading across Baz’s lips. 

_Merlin_ , he’s so beautiful. “The feeling is mutual, darling. You’re so beautiful.” I kiss him again. (We almost forget about the food.)

When we are done with dinner, I go down on one knee. (This is a Normal engagement after all.)

“ _Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch._ I fell in love with you long before I knew what love was or before I even realized that this is what was happening. Years may have passed but nothing has changed. You are my life and my happiness. Will you do me the greatest honour possible and become my husband?” I was fairly impressed with myself, I only managed to tear up after I was already done speaking.

There are tears in Baz’s eyes too and for once I was the one who left him speechless. 

“You can nod for _yes_ and shake your head for _no_ if you prefer, love,” I eventually say because even though I _think_ Baz will say _yes_ , I’m still on the end of the rope with nerves here and I can’t quite manage to wait until Baz gets his voice back. (What can I say, I’m still impatient.)

Baz gives me a nod and I slide his Mother’s band on his ring finger. He recognizes it immediately and starts full-on sobbing. I joined him already. What else is there to do? None of us could ever have dreamed that this is how our lives will turn out. We let ourselves be happy.

When we finally recover from the tears, I give Baz my Grandmother’s band and he slides it on my ring finger. Right there and then we set our wedding day for December 23, the day of our Anniversary, this year. We didn’t want to wait until next year. I sent a few texts with the good news.

 **Simon (21:06):** Baz said yes. On Anniversary this year. It’s hardly three months away...Is it even doable? Doubt we’ll get a venue this late. Perhaps if we go small we could do it at Nan’s.  
 **  
Fiona (21:07):** That’s my boy. 💙💙 I’ll make it happen. 💍🍾🥂🎻🤘Don’t be ridiculous, Simon, we are inviting everybody. Let me worry about the venue and everything else.

**Simon (21:06):** Just proposed to Baz. He said yes.

 **Penny (21:10):** I see you two aren’t wasting any time. Congratulations, Simon. 💙💙 Shepard and I are happy for both of you.🤗

**Simon (21:06):** Baz said yes, Nan. 

**Nan (21:12):** My sweet boy, you made an old woman very happy. I don’t need to worry anymore about you being an eternal bachelor.

When Baz was done with dessert we relocated to the bedroom to continue celebrating our engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping that all this fluff is making up for all the heartbreak from before ❤️


	6. Chapter 6

Baz and I made a vow to never use what happened twenty years ago against each other. A clean slate if you will. But Baz promised to start seeing my therapist. (They’re still only a few magickal therapists.) I had seventeen years to work off my anger and guilt. But not Baz. There was a lot he needed to let go off. 

“You’ll like her, love. She is very good at what she does,” I tried to reassure him.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Simon. I just don’t like talking to strangers,” he answered and sighed.

“I know that. But it’ll be fine,” I kissed Baz on his cheek and pulled him closer.

“Would you consider sitting in with me the first time?”

“Whatever you feel most comfortable with.” He visibly relaxed after that. I knew more than well how hard and terrifying all that could be.

“Thank you, love.” 

He may not have wanted to do it, not really, but he did stick with therapy. I think he initially only did it for me. But over time he was doing it for himself. I couldn’t blame him. (Afterall that’s how it started for me too, after that terrible Christmas.)

Baz isn’t flammable anymore. Thank magic for that. I loved him just as much when he was a vampire. I would have loved him the same if he was a Normal. But it is nice not having to worry to accidentally torch him with a fag. 

Baz has been experimenting a lot with fire since he became human. Finally being able to touch it without getting incinerated by it made all the difference for his wellbeing. (And unfortunately, I have to include myself as number one on the list of what was considered as a deadly fire for Baz.) 

But I know better now and I do better. I’ll never hurt him again. I like to think that I’m a different kind of fire to him now, the kind that makes us both burn in the best possible way. (We still can’t keep our hands off each other. It doesn’t seem to slow done down anytime soon.)

When Baz agreed to marry me I took a leave of absence for the rest of academical year, to spend time with him. Thanks to all after-hours research I’ve been doing with Fiona, the faculty was willing to show me that kind of leniency. 

In the meantime, I was reengineering Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s magickal proposal. 

Even though Fiona and my Grandmother were planning the wedding we still had things to figure out.

The weekend before our wedding, I took Baz to a hunting lodge my Grandmother owns down South, to rest up before the big day. 

“It’ll do us good to get away for a few days from all the stress,” I suggested. We weren’t the ones under stress per se but it still worked.

“I suppose you are right, love. We might need this,” Baz answered and snogged me in a very _suggestive_ manner. 

_Oh._ There might be another reason for Baz agreeing to this impromptu trip. (I’m not about to complain.)

He hasn’t suspected I had alternative reasons in mind. Not everybody chooses to have a magickal proposal. 

The following night we drove down to Saint Helier. It’s a sacred place for both Normals and magicians. You can still find runes from the early 8th century there and after all the blood that was shed, there is a lot of power left. I incorporated a simple sequence of runes (strength, partnership, joy, wholeness and protection) to the spell I’m going to use to hang the Sun and place a protective spell on Baz and me.

When I’m done runes will be burned on the inside of our wedding bands. (Our Grandfather’s wedding bands.)

  
  


“Are we going to have a picnic here, at night in the middle of nowhere, midwinter?” He mutters. I have noticed that now that Baz is human he likes to complain a lot. I love it.

_I love everything about him._

“Yes. That is what we are going to do, darling.”

“And why exactly are we doing this again?”

“Because it’s romantic,” was all he got from me.

“Simon, you’ve gone completely mad. It’s freezing cold,” Baz huffed and shook his head. He does have a point but he still agreed to it, despite all the grumbling. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I’ll do anything for Baz and he’ll do anything for me. _We’ll follow each other to the end of the Earth._ (Or in this case to a midnight picnic on frozen grounds by the sea.)

Eventually, we had to get out of the car and walk the rest of the way on foot, with a picnic rug and a picnic basket in hand. 

We pulled the rug out and Baz spelt it soft with **_“Cushion the blow!”_ ** and cast **_“You’re getting warmer”_ ** (It’s not common to use a warming spell on an item this large but Baz is powerful enough to pull it off.) He did that while I was fussing with the food and wine. (I wasn’t. I was saving every last drop of my magic. I also took this opportunity to discretely place our wedding bands in my palm and curl my fingers around them.) (Baz didn’t have to know that.)

And then my soon to be husband, as a true pyro that he is, has lit a fire all around us. 

_Fucking maniac!_

But also _fucking hot!_

“ _Jesus Christ,_ Baz, is this the Viking’s funeral you promised me our third year?”

He gave me his best bored once-over, “Funny, _Simon._ ”

“You should be careful, Baz.” I’m trying very hard to be responsible. _Baz is so hot when he’s playing with fire._

“I know what I’m doing. It’s the middle of winter with layers of snow and ice covering the ground.” That bored expression gave way to a smug self-satisfied grin. 

“There are still trees here,” I press even though he is probably right.

“The fire isn’t going to spread, love. I made sure of that. I feel utterly in control,” Baz says and gives me a peck on the lips. He sure looks rather pleased with himself.

I have to give it to Baz, it’s much warmer with the fire burning. It also inevitably reminds me of the night, in his bedroom back at Hampshire. Baz and I, on the rug by the fireplace, tumbling around and snogging till early morning, him sleeping in my arms after. Those few days back then were our only happy memories for a very long time. 

In truth what we have now is so much better. _This right now is the perfect night._ And it’s one in a lifetime of perfect nights yet to come.

There’s a smile on Baz’s lips, fire flakes are dancing in his eyes, his reddish golden skin looks as if it was _fire_. He’s a vision, part angel part demon. Baz looks glorious, both back then and now. (He is _always_ gorgeous, vampire or human.) I take his hand and look in his beautiful grey eyes.

“Love, you called me your Sun once. I want you to know that I only ever shine for you.” While holding his hand I say the words that are magic and Sun appears on the night sky right above the water. (Only we can see it.) 

“ _Simon.._ ,” he tries to speak but he is too choked up. So he kisses me instead of saying anything else and lays us down on the rug. And honestly? Despite the cold and the less than comfortable conditions, it was better than our wedding night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming along on this painful but eventually happy journey 💙
> 
> Hopefully tomorrow I'm going to post a side chapter with "an intimate part" of chapter 4.

Baz coming back through the Veil made quite the splash in the magickal community. Nobody knew he was a vampire. But now that he was back and human, well, people were happy for him. Even people who never liked him. This might be the reason why all of the Grimms attended the wedding. (Despite Baz marrying a bloke and one twice his age at that.)

Fiona was true to her word, she invited everybody. All the Families and the Coven (even former members.) She also invited everyone in our year at Watford including the teachers. 

Fiona planned a beautiful and rather traditional wedding at a rapid speed. Everything was, I guess you could say over the top. (Elegant, but a tad _too much_.) Fiona arranged an honest-to-goodness Victorian Gothic castle for us to use. (I did like the fact that it was both, I could just call it Gothic, made Baz laugh.) 

We got married at Belvoir Castle in Leicestershire to be precise. I have no idea who Fiona had to bride or threaten (possibly both) to make this happen with it being private property and world-famous at that. 

I might not know everything that was going through Fiona’s head while planning every single detail of our wedding, but I’m sure of one thing. 

Yes, a beautiful wedding was of course for Baz and me, to give us an unforgettable memory of the most important day of our lives because Fiona loves us.

But that could have been done on a much lower scale. The main reason Fiona chose to go that much out was purely _out of spite_ , to throw it in Malcolm’s face. Fiona is vindictive, impulsive and dramatic. She had to show Malcolm how much we don’t need his money. Thank magic we don’t. (I grew up dirt poor and wouldn’t wish that on anybody, especially Baz.) Fiona still has some family money left and I’m the only living Salisbury heir, we’ll be more than fine. 

Baz’s Father did show up for the wedding of course. It would have been in poor taste not to considering everything. But Malcolm didn’t approve of our marriage and disowned Baz. I don’t know what Malcolm expected, for Baz to come through the Veil and say — “Father, I’m ready to wed a woman now.” That wasn’t going to happen.

After Baz found out, he dropped Grimm and married me as Pitch. (Salisbury-Pitch alone sounds better anyway.) And since Baz wasn’t a Grimm anymore, I didn’t have to duel any of his relatives. (Otherwise, I might have ended up killing his Father accidentally, you never know.)

I think back before everything happened, Malcolm’s rejection would have wounded Baz a lot. He is different now. He doesn’t want anyone’s approval. 

Over the years I became a decent dancer, even when it comes to Walz. My Grandmother dragged me to enough Balls for that. We looked very good during our first dance if I say so myself.

I swept Baz in for another dance as soon as “Into My Arms” by Nick Cave started. It was playing on Baz’s Leaver’s Ball and it was the first song we ever danced to. (We haven’t danced again after that night. Not until after Baz came back to me.) This time, we slow danced properly to the song.

“You remembered,” Baz breathed against my cheek. (I was holding him very close to me.) 

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” It came out as a chuckle. I’m sure Baz thought I did forget and he had all right to think so. I was a bit of a knob and a proper mess back then. I still remembered things though and I knew Baz better than anyone. I still do. That will never change.

“I love you, Simon,” is what I get in place of a response. I take it.

“I love you too,” I answer and snog him senseless.

Baz lips feel soft against mine and my arm tightens around his waist. 

_“Love,”_ he murmurs softly and I can see the desire in his eyes. It matches my own. 

_We still match._ We always will.

 _“Basil_ ,” I whispered in his ear because he likes it in certain suggestive situations. As soon as the song ended we left the dance floor and spent some time behind the clothing rack. (I’m fairly convinced we became an utter cliche at our wedding.)

Baz decided not to go back to LSE. He started my uni following September and took his degree at a rapid speed. (I wouldn’t have expected anything less from him.) The university might have frowned on our relationship if we weren’t already married by then.

Baz graduated last year with a double major and a minor with full honours and started on his dissertation. I don’t think he could stand the idea of having anyone around (even his own husband) having achieved higher education than him. And instead of simply catching up, he is pulling one over me. I don’t mind. _Baz is so fucking smart_ , I could never get the best of him. (I wouldn’t want to.)

We bought an old Victorian house on the outskirts of London and have been restoring it for the last four years. Would it have been easier to buy a new and modern house? Yes. But Baz is nothing if not dramatic. That will never change. _And I’ll give him anything he wants._

I remember how I was acting around Baz in public before. I couldn’t even hold his hand under a disapproving look back in the day. It took losing him and putting hard work on my self-esteem to acquire the devil may care attitude to anything and anyone that isn’t us or our immediate family. We still get angry looks sometimes. I couldn’t care less. At that moment the only thing going through my mind is:

 _For Crowley’s sake, Baz, don’t put anything of theirs on fire!_

Then I’ll have to replace whatever it is he torched with ”As you were” (because the brat refuses to do that himself) and spell them innocent. It’s an unnecessary hassle.

My husband is quite reckless now that he’s human. (It’s almost as if he thinks that since he isn’t a vampire anymore, he can do something that isn’t strictly polite.) (Who knew Baz needed to become human to let his _temper_ out?)

However, Baz is easily distracted by a good snog. (I’ve noticed that already during the Winter break, our eights year and to my utter delight, some things never change.) 

_It’s my true superpower_. I casually lean in when his blue fire starts to flicker on his fingertips and snog him senseless. (He’s yet to complain.) And well, people with the angry looks aren’t exactly comfortable with two blokes full-on snogging so they scutter away. 

In the end, it’s a win-win on all accounts. I get a very enthusiastic Baz dragging me home or to the nearest place of convenience. (Not that we need any external encouragement.) We are constantly “catching up” on lost time. Fiona threatened to move out of the building. (She wouldn’t, she just likes having something to complain about.) 

Baz and I have been taking liberties at _any_ convenient place. Washroom of restaurants and clubs. (“Clean as a whistle” and a good silencing spell come in handy.) 

I’m ashamed to admit that we haven’t shied away from changing rooms at clothing stores either. And once behind an actual corner of a pub. (That time we were too sozzled celebrating Baz’s graduation to think straight so to speak.)

Fiona walked in on us. That might have been humiliating if we weren’t so very _very_ drunk.

“ _Jesus Christ._ You’re in public. Stop acting like two fucking teenagers or I’ll spell you apart,” she threatened but Fiona’s all bark and no bite. (With us that is.) She’s a dangerous lunatic in general, ready to attack anyone who’s against us. I love that woman with all my heart. Couldn’t have gotten a better aunt. 

“Oi, we just reunited,” I growled at her.

“It’s been four years, you numpty. Now come along, I got us a cab.” We heart her laughter as she walked away. She’s the one that got us this sozzled in the first place. But at least she got a cab. 

Half a year after Baz’s graduation, Penny gave birth to our two boys. Penny is a magickal doctor, just like Dr Wellbelove but she incorporates more magic in her work and research than he does. 

We don’t know how she managed it but our children are identical twins with both mine and Baz DNA combined, and only very little of Penny’s. She did try to explain the magickal science behind it all but Baz and I are from academia, we don’t exactly speak “science”. 

Tyrannus and Snow Salisbury-Pitch. They'll hate us for those names when they are teenagers. This wasn’t meant as a torment but it was a partially selfish decision on our part.

Baz’s Grandfather’s name was Tyrannus, it keeps the memory of his Mother alive. And Snow, that is the middle name my Mother gave me, it was meant to represent love. Instead, it came with a lot of pain. It became a reminder of all we had to go through. Now it finally only means love as initially intended. It’s my way of honouring my Mother’s memory. 

The twins are perfect. I’m convinced they look more like Baz. He says they look just like me. We turned to Penny and asked what she thought.

“Well, what I _can_ tell you is that they don’t look like me,” she tried to dismay us, exasperated that she was. 

“Bunce, surely you must have an opinion.”

Penny gave him a look that spoke volumes. ( _Nothing good_.)

“You’re making me feel old, Basilton. Call me Bunce one more time and I spell you mum.” 

Penny has gotten more commanding with age. (Who knew that was even possible?!)

“Penelope, we’ve been best friends and family for how many years now? Surely when I say that the resemblance between Baz and the twins is uncanny, you know I’m telling the truth.”

She gave me _the look_ too and put a lot of menace in her next words.

“ _Simon_ , pulling friends and family from childhood card? That’s low even for you. I have no reservations from spelling you mum as well.” 

Penny’s on the Coven. She could do it if she really wanted to.

Then she added a little softer. “My work here is done, boys. Leave me in peace, you’re giving me a headache.”

The twins have curly black hair, Baz’s reddish golden skin tone and his cheekbones and their eyes are both grey and blue. They did inherit my freckles and moles. Baz was over the moon for that last part. He says it’s the most beautiful part of me. 

I spent half my life hating both my freckles and my moles. I don’t anymore. I inherited them from my Nan. The day I met her, I started to like every similarity we shared. I didn’t know back then how much Baz like that part of me. (He kept kissing my moles, I should have realized.) (Younger me was such a moron.)

Our children would have been beautiful no matter what. But recognizing Baz in them makes my heart swell with joy. And _seeing Baz happy_ looking at the moles and freckles covering their skin _makes me happy_. (I’m glad I finally realized how much Baz loves me.)

My Mother hasn’t come back through the Veil. I chose to believe it’s because she found peace. You can’t choose who you love. My Mum had the bad fortune of falling in love with a monster. I was lucky to fall in love with the kindest and warmest person on Earth.

We moved to our newly restored house just before the twins were born. It has a big garden and a piece of the woods stretching fairly far.

“Now we don’t have to deal with the neighbours,” I said satisfied.

“I thought you considered that great of distance being too greedy, love,” the smug bastard chuckled.

“Where have you ever heard that, darling?” I shut him up with a kiss before he had time to answer. Because I do remember saying that on our trip to America, but I’m not going to tell him that. 

Fiona and my Grandmother moved in with us. (Fiona practically lived with us at our flat as it was.) (She did at least have the decency to live us alone at night.)

My Grandmother is still full of life and quite active despite her old age. I’m glad she got to meet our children. And if we are lucky she’ll live long enough for them to remember her at least a little. 

One day when Snow was crying, Baz picked him up and murmured a soft, “It’s okay, little puff, you’ll be alright.” And just like that Baz himself was crying. I wrapped my arms around them both and held them tight. 

Twenty years ago I wouldn’t have known what it meant. But over the years, Fiona must have told me every single one of Baz’s childhood stories. I knew that’s what his Mum used to call him. He misses her still. But it’s better now. Better because he’s human, better because he has us, better since we got our own kids. 

Baz keeps lighting fire in his hands and lets it burn for hours and hours at a time without breaking a sweat. (He comes from two long lines of fire magicians.) Now, I’m no psychic but even I can predict that our children will be trouble just like Baz is.

**Author's Note:**

> You are welcome to yell at me for all the angst. (But please, don’t be too mean.)
> 
> If this history made you sad and you’d like a bit of cheering up — here’s some of my Snowbaz happy stories:  
>   
> [My Carry On Countdown 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023208) — 32 one shots, **various rating**.  
>   
> [I Choose You](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934521) \- series, **various rating**.  
>   
>  **Explicit** :  
>   
> [Summertime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792541/chapters/52001164) — multiple chapters.  
>   
> [How to lose a straight enemy in 10 easy steps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157277/chapters/55423396) — multiple chapters.  
>   
> [Liquid Fire (Sex and Blood Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917710/chapters/60300532) — multiple chapters.  
>   
> [Wanking my feelings away 2.0 edition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721121) — one shot.  
>   
> [All it took was one glance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517976) — one shot.  
>   
> [Simon’s Summer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646147) — one shot.  
>   
> [The happiest moment of my life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825082) — one shot (this is a smut part of a longer fic, and can be read separately.)  
>   
> [Wetter is Better](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24846886/chapters/60106213) — multiple chapters. (Co-written with [abbynormalj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbynormalj/pseuds/abbynormalj).)  
>   
>  **Mature** :  
>   
> [Courting is Easy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718973/chapters/65180536) — multiple chapters, (short).  
>   
>  **Teen** :  
>   
> [The Belt Buckle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453068#main) — one shot.  
>   
> [He’s not dull](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805289/chapters/57193069) — multiple chapters.  
>   
> [It Can Only Be You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613699/chapters/59461462) — multiple chapters. (Co-written with [Theawkwardbibliophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theawkwardbibliophile/pseuds/Theawkwardbibliophile).)  
>   
> [Baz is a cat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314567/chapters/55844782) — short (1,513 words.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thanks for reading. 💙


End file.
